The Truth Hurts
by JustJeanette
Summary: A very silly WIKTT 2nd Person challenge fic. Just what is in the cupboard?


Anti-litigation charm; JK Rowling owns the Harry Potter Universe, to her we bow. Warner Brothers and Various Publishers also have their own rights. We are just playing in their backyard and we promise to clean up when we have finished.  
  
This is in response to the 2nd PERSON CHALLENGE on WIKTT. A very silly response I'll admit, the muse was 'playful', but a response none the less. To Tegan who set the challenge, this is fun. . . :D  
  
Plagiarism is sometimes the sincerest form of flattery, Plot elements identifiable from fics on Whispers, WIKTT and fanfiction.net are likely to be just that. To those who write them........ Wow.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
You can't believe you eyes, or in this case you ocular equivalents. You had smelt her the moment she came into Madame Pomfrey's storeroom, 'what is she doing here?' you wondered; OK the storeroom itself wasn't precisely out of bounds but it wasn't the place you'd expect to see any of the students. You decided not to let your presence be known, though you made your way closer as she walked over to that cupboard, the secret cupboard. She opened it, 'ok, some one was going to pay for that,' you thought furiously. Those wards were not the type a damned seventh year should be able to open, after all, as even you couldn't.  
  
You watched closely as she looked around somewhat furtively, in fact you had to shrink back under the desk or she would have seen you. 'What in Merlin's name was she up to?' you thought for a moment before stopping as you tasted something on the air.   
  
"Damn," you heard her say as she placed one arm across her stomach. "Merlin definitely was male," she grumbled. "No woman would stuff up the design specs this badly."  
  
She fumbled about in the cupboard for a few minutes, arcane comments like, "heavy, light, slim, self-inserting," floated down passed your ears until you heard her sigh. "I'll have to let Madame Pomfrey know we are running out again," she said, as she moved away from the cupboard. "Funny isn't it, they can bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death, but come up with a useful solution to our problems, nooooooooo," she was commenting to the air.  
  
You were a bit miffed at that, after all you *could* bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper in death, what was needed after that? Curious now, you poked your head out as you heard a slight rustling sound. Muggle plastic, what was that doing at Hogwarts? It was perhaps unfortunate for you, but it appeared that Fate was not the only one with PMT for as your nose peeked out from under the desk you found yourself looking up as Hermione Granger raised one leg to the top of the desk. . . she wasn't wearing anything under her robes.  
  
You tried not to notice the gentle fall of curls, or the slightly slick folds above you; you tried not to drink in the scent of woman that permeated the room, you tried not to lose concentration. You failed miserably.  
  
Hermione Granger screamed and started to topple over as the desk suddenly tipped, after all you took up a bit more room than your animagus form. It was only your quick reflexes that prevented her from striking her head on the cupboard door, though you had a slight feeling she wouldn't appreciate that fact right at the moment. You were right.  
  
The next thing you knew you had a blinding cramp. As you doubled over, she just smiled, "Now Professor," she said with an evil grin, "you have been heard on more than one occasion to complain about the female students and their lack of concentration during 'that time of the month'. Well let's see how well you can concentrate with my cramps." Her smile became even broader as you desperately summoned the lavender-scented hot teddy that you knew she kept beside the bed.  
  
"Oh no you don't Severus, that's mine!"  
  
THE END. (unless asked for more. . . Review hint hint hint)  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Love Jeanette 


End file.
